A Matchless Match
by Lady Lithe
Summary: Harry's hunting for the perfect match for Ginny! He'll do whatever it takes to find her the one. Even if that means finding out information one boy should never know. But despite this, no one seems right… Maybe he's been looking in all the wrong places?
1. Chapter 1: The Perfect Match

A Matchless Match

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and most likely never will.

Summary: Harry and Ginny have become close friends. So much that now he, despite Ron's fervent opposing efforts, decides to go on the hunt for the perfect match for her. Harry's faced Death Eaters and dragons, so what's a little match matching? Apparently he's overestimated himself because no one seems just right… Could it be that Harry's been looking in all the wrong places?

Naru-chan: Thought I'd try my hand at fluff and comedy instead of my other fic, which is extremely dramatic. Tell me what you think! (:

**EDITED 5/29/07 - **Same content, but changed some of the phrasings and caught some grammar mistakes. Sorry!

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Chapter One: The Perfect Match

_Matchmaker, Matchmaker,  
Make me a match,  
Find me a find,  
Catch me a catch!  
Matchmaker, Matchmaker,  
Look through your book,  
And make me a perfect match!_

-_Fiddler on the Roof_

"_Ohhhh!_ The _nerve _of that Ron!"

Harry looked up from his parchment and watched in amusement as a redhead stormed in furiously from the portrait hole. He couldn't suppress his grin as her small figure marched toward him, her arms shaking with anger. He enjoyed the way the firelight reflected against her, especially her scarlet hair, which blazed several shades of red. Ginny had grown up so quickly. It seemed like yesterday that she was still a blushing little girl, but now she had matured and gotten over her silly crush on him.

They had become such good friends over the summer, especially ever since Hermione and Ron had officially become a couple. They had spent endless nights together, teasing the couple mercilessly, battling against each other in wizard chess, and playing Quidditch. Now that they were back at Hogwarts, they had fallen into a comfortable and familiar pattern of spending time with each other whenever they had spare time (something Harry had ever since Hermione and Ron decided to finally get their act together). He might even go so far as to say he and Ginny were best friends now.

"What's he done now?" Harry asked casually, though he already had a hunch what his other redheaded best friend had done. Ginny dropped herself in the seat in front of him, a scowl painted on her face. He ran a hand inattentively through his chaotic black hair—an attempt he knew would fail to tame it.

"Who does he think he is?" she demanded, slamming a pale hand on the table. Her eyes flashed dangerously. "He's such a filthy hypocrite!"

"Scared off yet another boy?" he smiled sympathetically, setting down his Sugar Quill. He knew it was useless trying to concentrate on work when Ginny was with him.

Countless times this year (though it had not begun very long ago), Ron had threatened all the boys who had come within three feet of his precious little sister. And it was hard to keep the swarm of blokes that wanted Ginny at bay. Like he had said, little Ginny had grown up to be very beautiful. The freckles scattered on her face only accentuated her wide, brown eyes, which were framed by long, curly lashes. Her scarlet tresses, as smooth as silk, fell softly around her face and shimmered down her slender back. It was a wonder that Ron managed to keep any of them from her at all. Harry vaguely recalled something along the lines of bringing the other Weasley brothers to Hogwarts as a threat.

"Yes!" Ginny hissed. She shoved a lock of hair away from her face irritably, but it simply fell back to where it had been. "I can take care of myself! Ha! Saying that _I'm_ not old enough while he snogs Hermione senseless. He's only one bloody year older than I am! And I've already gone out with Michael Corner so it's not as if I'm clueless in the area!"

Harry nodded in agreement.

"He has no right," she continued, idly taking his quill.

"But you know," he relented, taking his quill back, "maybe it was because Michael Corner was such a prat and he doesn't want you to get hurt again."

"I wasn't hurt," she folded her arms over her chest. "I admit I probably made a mistake, but he wasn't so bad when we first went out. It was just that he had too much House pride. I did rather feel sorry for him sometimes, being the only Ravenclaw sitting in the Gryffindor bleachers. But I never asked that of him in the first place."

"So you weren't bothered at all by dumping him?" he asked, feeling somewhat relieved. He was glad that his friend hadn't been hurt by the whole ordeal.

"Well," she frowned, absently brushing away the distracting tendril of red hair from her face again. "Maybe just a little. I mean, just the fact that he instantly jumped into Cho Chang's arms afterwards." Then she winced, looking nervously at Harry. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Harry sighed, pushing his black glasses closer to his face. The raven-haired Ravenclaw flashed in his mind. She was still beautiful and wonderful, but the emotion that he felt for her was gone. "Cho and I… we kind of just fell apart."

"Still…the two of them shouldn't be snogging each other's faces off in public," she snorted. "They should at _least_ have the decency to do it locked up in a broom closet somewhere like Ron and Hermione."

Harry laughed as she pretended to gag. "I agree. Kissing is so…private and intimate. It's something that should be shared between two people that care about each other."

Ginny arched an amused eyebrow. "You seem to know a lot about it."

"Oh no, I –" he blushed.

"So you kissed Cho." She nodded knowingly. Then she smirked. "Was it your first kiss? How was it? The way you described it, it must have been great."

"No, actually," Harry replied bashfully. "It was…after a DA meeting… It…it wasn't as nice as I thought it would be. Rather disappointing actually. I mean I had hoped at the very least that the girl I kissed wouldn't instantly burst into tears. Kind of hurts your ego."

Ginny nodded understandingly.

"What about you?" he asked curiously.

"What about me?" she pursed her lips coyly.

"C'mon, I just told you one of the most embarrassing moments of my life," he said with a smile. He rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow. "It's your turn. What was your first kiss like?"

"My first kiss…" she whispered, licking her lips nervously. "It was…perfect."

"Oh," he said lamely. He couldn't help but feel a little peeved at this. Harry's first kiss had been quite mortifying. At least if Ginny's had been disappointing as well, the two of them could laugh about it.

"That is," she frowned, propping her head against her hand, "it was _supposed_ to be perfect. It was at the Astronomy Tower and he lit candles and everything. Even scattered rose petals everywhere. The whole dinner was so romantic under the stars. There was even a meteor shower! And then, at the right moment, when everything fit, he slowly leaned and…"

"Then what was wrong?" he asked after she trailed off.

"I can't really explain it," she confessed, glaring at the table.

"Well, maybe next time it'll be just right for both of us," Harry said optimistically.

"Merlin! At this rate, Ron will ensure that I'll never be able to kiss anyone again," she groaned miserably, covering her face with her hands.

Harry frowned at this. Perhaps Ron had gone too far. Ginny didn't deserve to be restrained from the same happiness Ron and Hermione felt. She deserved it and so much more! He understood Ron's protectiveness but Ginny was his best friend too.

"You know what…" Harry said seriously, taking Ginny's hand in his own. "I think you should be able to date."

"You do?" she asked, a little breathlessly. Her eyes flickered over his face uncertainly.

"Absolutely," he assured her, watching her intently with his smoldering emerald eyes. "You've been there for me so much these past few months and we've grown really close. I've never done anything for you, and yet you're still here. You've kicked me in the arse whenever I needed a good kicking and everyone else was babying me." Ginny giggled and Harry even smiled slightly. "I…I just want you to know how much I care about you…"

"Harry…"

"That's why," he said, breaking into a lopsided grin, "I'm going to help you find that someone. I'll make sure that you'll find someone to kiss and it'll be perfect."

"What?" she faltered, blinking wildly. She closed her eyes before she exhaled unsteadily, blowing away the persistent strand of hair. "You can't be serious."

"What do you mean?" he pouted playfully. "I can play matchmaker! You just wait and see!"

"But what about Ron? Don't you mind?" she asked hesitantly, smiling sadly.

"Ron's my best mate," he confessed slowly. Her entire face dropped. "But no matter what Ron says you should be able to be with whoever you want. And you're my best friend too. Your happiness means a lot to me. Ron's obviously the one in the wrong in this situation. I can't just sit here and watch him turn you into an old maid! What kind of friend would I be?"

He smiled when she exhaled deeply before she shook her head, lightly laughing. "Alright, Harry. I'll let you be my matchmaker."

"Trust me," he said, absently tucking the rebellious scarlet tendril behind her ear, enjoying the smooth texture. "I'll find you someone perfect."

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Naru-chan: Interested in who Harry'll think of and how he'll try to get this to work? Then hurry and review and I'll update! (: 


	2. Chapter 2: It's Raining Men

A Matchless Match

By: Lady Lithe

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Naru-chan: Thank you for the reviews! I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

**EDITED 6/14/07** - Not too much plot change, just grammar and flow! Hope you enjoy the improvement! (:

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Chapter Two: It's Raining Men

_Human girls make human boys act sorta weird. - Veemon_

"Look at that! Harry is doing homework. You should follow his example, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed as she walked over to Harry from the portrait hole, her arms laden with books. The tall redheaded boy trailed behind her and grumbled irritably, but did not answer and fiddled with her chestnut curls instead.

Harry swiftly shoved his scattered parchments out of sight and pretended to be casually reading his Potions book.

"Hey guys."

"Hi, Harry. Did you finish your essay?" a pleased Hermione smiled, though she turned to swat at Ron's hands. "Really, Ron!"

"Yeah, just about," Harry said offhandedly. He was extremely grateful that Ron was distracting her long enough for him to stow away his notes. He stretched and faked a yawn. "All this studying has made me tired. I think I'm going to go for a walk."

"All right, Har—Ron!" she hissed as the redhead leaned in to kiss her. She shoved her hand against his face. "Not in front of Harry!"

Harry quickly grabbed his things, keeping his Sugar Quill and parchment out, and escaped out the portrait hole while Hermione was still distracted. He idly sucked on his quill as he strolled down the halls. A group of second years giggled as he passed them. So far he had written a list of all the blokes he could think of. For the most part, he had tried to remain unbiased, which had been especially hard when it came to the Slytherins. Still, he had discovered that Ginny's scope might be larger than he thought, as she was a fifth year, and he was not familiar with many fifth year boys.

_Colin Creevy, Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom, Cormac McLaggen… _Harry scanned over the names of Gryffindors, after deciding to begin his search in their own House. He sighed in frustration. He didn't even know what type of guy Ginny was interested in. Still, none of them seemed to click with the redhead perfectly.

Colin was…a nice boy. He _was_ a friend of Ginny's. However, friend or no friend, Colin was absolutely _infuriating! _Was it just Harry, or did the boy ever stop smiling? Or carrying that outrageous camera of his around? Harry frowned. He supposed he was being a bit biased there, considering the little mousy-haired boy used to blind him with his searing camera's flashes. But Colin just wouldn't do, Harry reasoned. He was too short. Granted, he had grown a _bit_ taller over the summer, but Harry just couldn't shake off the feeling that Ginny needed a guy that was just the right height for that perfect kiss, and Colin was simply not up to par. Besides, he would probably be more interested in taking pictures than being a good boyfriend.

Seamus was an all right enough bloke. His "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" pickup line was always amusing. Many a night in the boy's dorm, Ron, Harry, and Dean would all laugh at the ridiculous tactics that Seamus employed to get girls. He was funny—not very smart, but funny. Ginny could not go with someone without a sense of humor. He was a bit of a player though. Sure, Harry highly doubted that _anyone_ would want or have a sane reason to cheat on Ginny, but he just didn't want to see her get hurt.

Dean… Harry tapped his quill against this name. Dean was nice. He was an artist, Harry scrawled next to his name. Girls like artists. They were the sensitive type. He might go well with Ginny, because she was more aggressive (watching her as a Chaser on the team said enough). On the other hand, what if he was _too_ sensitive? Too emotional was never good—something Harry had learned the hard way with Cho. But Dean was also on the Quidditch team, as a Chaser with Ginny, proving that he was competitive. Only…he didn't have the same zeal or skill that she did. She should unquestionably have a guy that could match her in Quidditch.

Just as he was about to contemplate Neville as an option, he felt a hand slap against his back that nearly sent him flying into a nearby stonewall.

"Hey there, Harry!" grinned a tall Irish boy with sandy hair. He winked as a girl passed him.

"Hi, Seamus," grumbled Harry, rubbing his sore back. He quickly stuffed his parchment into his pockets. He couldn't very well have everyone figuring out what he was doing.

"Off to the Great Hall?" Without waiting for Harry's reply, Seamus grabbed him by the arm and began dragging him away. "I'm starving!"

"No, I—" Harry stumbled before he paused. He hadn't eaten yet, but he hadn't been very hungry, either. Still, he couldn't just pass up this opportunity. This might be a good chance to gather more information, since Seamus usually sat with the guys. "Erm, actually, alright."

"Great," Seamus said, continuing to strut toward the Great Hall. Harry registered in his mind this manner of walking. Strutting meant confidence. And it meant arrogance. Ginny didn't like boys who couldn't hold their own, but too much pride was…just too much. She might end up hexing him. Harry chuckled to himself at this thought.

"Something funny?" the Irish boy raised an eyebrow at Harry.

"Oh no, nothing," Harry quickly shook his head, trying to match Seamus's pace. Perhaps this was a good chance to see what blokes thought of Ginny. He tried to say casually, "By the way, do you know Ginny?"

"Who?" Seamus blurted out as he watched a female walk by. Harry felt his blood boil.

"What do you mean _who_?" said Harry, surprised at how irritated he sounded and felt.

Seamus blinked, raking his brain to remember what Harry had said. "You mean Ron's little sister, Ginny?"

"She's not _just_ Ron's little sister," Harry protested heatedly. She was so much more than Ron's sister. For one thing, she was fantastic at Quidditch, something he couldn't say about girls like Romilda Vane or boys like Seamus.

"Heh, of course I know her," Seamus smirked. "And of course she's not _just_ Ron's little sister. She's become so _fine_ over the summer!"

"She's not a piece of _meat_, for your information," Harry snarled. In his mind, he was crossing off Seamus's name from the list. Again and again. Viciously.

"No," he answered dreamily, licking his lips, "but if she were, she'd be one _prime_ steak! Don't you just want to gobble her whole?" He winked suggestively at Harry.

"You know, suddenly I'm not so hungry anymore," Harry snapped, turning away, his stomach twisting and turning. He could barely refrain from smashing his fist into Seamus's conceited face.

"Oh, hey!" Seamus grabbed Harry's arm, snapped back from his reverie once he registered Harry's angry tone. "Blimey, sorry mate! I forgot who I was talking to."

"To say the least," Harry scowled, wrenching his arm from Seamus.

"I kind of lose myself when I think about Ginny. You're right, she's not a piece of meat," Seamus amended carefully. "She's just so gorgeous and all that I…" he immediately stopped his train of thought at the look on Harry's face. "But she's also so witty and entertaining. She's a great gal to be around. So…don't leave on account of what I said."

Harry shifted his weight from foot to foot, mulling over what Seamus had just said. Then he sighed, giving in. "Okay, I'll come."

"Good," Seamus sighed in relief. As they continued to walk, he continued to talk. "Once again, I'm sorry mate. Of course you don't think about her that way. I mean, you're like her brother."

"Yeah, well…" Harry's stomach clenched. He frowned. Did he have a stomachache?

"Not that she needs anymore brothers," Seamus continued, wincing. "Ron's got that covered as it is. But hey, at least I'm on _your_ good side, right?"

"Why does my good side matter?" a baffled Harry asked.

"You're Ron's best friend and a good friend of Ginny's," Seamus explained as if it was the most evident thing in the world. "If anyone can, you can convince Ron to relax. Also, she probably wouldn't go out with anyone that you don't like or doesn't like you. She'd probably rip the guy's head off for insulting you. But hey, once again, that's a given because you're like her brother!"

Harry didn't know what to say or think about the title, but he didn't really get a chance to respond because they had reached the Great Hall, and now Seamus seated himself beside Dean Thomas. Harry sat down on Dean's other side and smiled at Neville, who was seated directly across from him. Harry covertly scanned both boys.

"Is there something on my face?" Dean spoke, frowning at Harry now.

"Oh no!" Harry quickly adverted his gaze, embarrassed at being caught. "Nothing at all."

His emerald eyes then turned to Neville. Neville might have a chance with her, Harry mused, because she had gone with him to the Yule Ball. On the other hand, Neville had kept stepping on her shoes, causing her to wince in pain. She probably had a horrible time. No, Neville was certainly not the best dancer or perhaps date. Then again, Harry thought, recalling his horribly embarrassing dancing with Parvati and his failure of a date with Cho with a cringe, who was Harry to speak?

More importantly, Neville did not possess the sharpest memory. For example, his losing Trevor on the train during their first year (and the countless times in the years after), his constantly red Remembrall, his forgotten homework… What if he forgot her birthday or their anniversary?

"Hey Harry, have you finished your Herbology essay yet?" Neville asked.

"Oh, haven't started," replied Harry, taking a bite of fried chicken. The other boys launched immediately into a conversation about how unfair the essay was, while Harry was left alone to his thoughts.

That was right; Neville was extremely gifted at Herbology. And he had a solid heart of gold. He had remained Harry's friend throughout last year when all the rumors were flying about how Harry was just a deranged attention-seeker. Neville had been a true friend when Harry needed him the most. That sense of loyalty was hard to find.

Then again…he wasn't exactly the bravest of the brave. The poor boy had the self-esteem about the size of a peanut. Nor was he the strongest of the strong. While Harry knew Ginny could hold her own, having a guy protecting her wouldn't hurt. Neville probably would crumple at the prospect of facing _any_ of the Weasley brothers, let alone all of them together.

"…fight between Ginny Weasley and Michael Corner."

Harry's interest was piqued instantly. He choked on his chicken, and Dean patted him on the back sympathetically.

"You alright there, Harry?" he asked.

"Never been better," Harry croaked. He mentally noted to add under Dean's pros that he knew his news.

"Hurry up and continue, Dean, I'm dying here," Seamus urged Dean, his face now flushed. Harry noted to add "impatient" under Seamus's cons. And "uncaring brute."

"Alright, well, apparently it was just after her Transfigurations class. He had been waiting for her and stopped her."

"He was _waiting _for her?" Seamus demanded. Neville was fervently watching Dean.

"Apparently." Then Dean stopped and looked about him, making sure it was safe to speak. Then he lowered his voice to a stage whisper. "According to the Colin Creevey, who was there at the scene, Corner wanted to talk to her, but she didn't want to talk to him. There was quite a heated argument. I heard he wanted to get back together with her—"

There was a furious growl. Harry was startled when all the other boys turned to look at him, and he quickly smiled uneasily. When they turned back to Dean, Harry frowned to himself. Where had that come from?

"Right…anyway, she was so furious that she hexed him. Her famous Bat-Bogey Hex. My sources tell me that she was screaming something about not needing him anymore."

"She deserves much better," Neville spoke up so firmly that it surprised Harry.

"You're interested in Ginny?" Harry inquired, causing the other boy to blush deeply and stiffen in fear.

"Of course he is," Seamus snorted. "About every walking, talking bloke is. Except you and Ron. That would just be wrong."

"Hold on," a voice came from the Hufflepuff table behind them. Ernie Macmillan was leaning over to speak with them. "Are you guys talking about…" He stopped and glanced around, looking sure the coast was clear. "Ginny Weasley?"

They nodded in response. Harry barely refrained from choking again. Ernie Macmillan from his year?

"Any news, Dean?"

"Well, I heard that Corner wanted to date her again," Dean whispered back.

"That son of a—!" Zacharias Smith hissed with enmity.

Harry's jaw dropped. _Smith too?_

"Shh!" Ernie hushed him before turning back to Dean. "_Well_? What did she say?"

"It was a definite no-go," Dean answered with a triumphant smile.

"_Whew!_ I'll spread the news," Ernie said before he turned back to his table.

Harry stared blankly at his friends, his jaw still hanging. This was shocking. Beyond shocking!

Just how many boys liked Ginny?

"You all have a _network_?" Harry asked in a strangled voice. "And…and you all fancy her? But you never told me, Neville…or Seamus…don't tell me…" Harry stared at Dean, who quickly looked away. Harry's throat was suddenly as dry as a desert.

"Blimey, Harry! I thought you were smarter than this. No one tells you anything because you're…_his_ best friend," Seamus hissed, his green eyes darting to the opposite end of the table, where his two best friends sat, blissfully unaware of the conversation taking place at Harry's end of the table.

"Please don't tell Ron!" Neville begged Harry, bowing his head. "He'd kill me! I mean, I don't even stand a chance with her, so it's not like I'm a threat, and I don't want to be killed just for liking her!"

"I wouldn't do that," Harry assured Neville steadfastly. "But I really don't have that much power."

"Not only are you Ron's best mate, but you're Ginny's close friend too," Dean tacked on. "And it would be horrible if either of them found out – not that we don't trust you, Harry. It's just…very risky overall if you catch my drift."

Harry nodded reluctantly. He understood, but for some reason, discovering all this was putting him on edge. He knew he should feel overjoyed for Ginny. It certainly made his job as matchmaker easier. However, he was currently feeling the exact opposite of joy.

"But Ron's not that scary, is he?"

"Are you kidding me? Haven't you heard about…" Seamus stopped and leaned toward Harry and said in a low voice, "_Marcus Belby_?"

Harry shook his head.

"I think you were at detention when this all happened last year. See, Belby used to be a Ravenclaw."

"Used to?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

Seamus looked at Harry gravely. "Used to. Rumor has it that little Belby thought it would be a great idea to try to cop a feel on Ginny."

"_What_?" Harry hissed, feeling a lick of anger flash through him.

"Exactly, the blasted fool. Well, before the bloke could even do anything of the sort, Ron found out his plan. And…well, he's been at St. Mungos ever since. Let's just say that it doesn't seem that he'll be touching anything anytime soon."

"Apparently the twins and the brother that deals with dragons were involved as well," Dean added. "Belby still jumps whenever he hears sudden noises."

"Wow…" was all Harry could muster.

"Ever since, there's been a sort of…well, club you could call it. Don't worry, not the _whole _school is in on it. Just mostly fifth and sixth years. We've got a few others from other years, but yeah. We just like to admire her from afar. That is, until it's safe. We're not really…supportive of each other exactly, but we understand each other's pain."

There was a pause, as Harry tried to digest this new bit of information.

"So…what is it, exactly, that you fancy about her?" he asked hesitantly. He nearly cringed when all of their eyes clouded over.

"What is there _not_ to fancy?" asked Dean, dropping his chin onto his hands.

"The sound of her laughter…" Neville blushed furiously. If he became any redder, Harry would have insisted that he go to the Hospital Wing.

"Her luscious, rosy lips…" sighed Dean.

"Then there's that factor that you just can't seem to have her…like forbidden fruit. I guess that might be a main reason for those Slytherins to like her. But…the way her crimson hair falls in waves…" Seamus smiled vaguely.

"Wait, Seamus, what happened to Lavender?" Harry asked, trying to hold back the panic that bubbled inside him.

"Psh! Lavender's got nothing on Ginny. Like when she ties up her hair, exposing her pale and slender neck," Seamus groaned with desire. "That soft neck which I just want to – "

"Okay!" Harry interrupted sharply, bolting up from his seat. His appetite had completely disappeared. In fact, he now felt nauseous and flushed. "Too much information!"

"Seamus! Not in front of Harry! He's like her brother!" Dean scolded his friend.

"Oops, sorry mate," Seamus grinned sheepishly. "Me and my memory."

Harry threw up his arms to ward off any other unwanted and unthinkable confessions and grabbed his things before striding out of the Great Hall. He was so caught up in simply escaping that he didn't see the redhead coming his way when he reached the corridors.

"Harry!" Her voice called out to him, causing his head to snap up and a shiver down his spine. She smiled brilliantly at him as she hurried over. Her dark scarlet hair was tied back, her bangs framing her pale but damp and flushed face. He swallowed hard. Was it just him he wondered, or did she look…better than she usually did?

"Hi, Ginny," he said nervously. He pulled at his Gryffindor striped tie.

Her happy laugh sent shivers down his spine once again as she shook her head, causing stray drops of water to fly about. "Sorry! It started to rain outside and…well, a little water never hurt anyone." She winked at him, and Harry found his throat quite dry.

"You better get dry, so you don't get sick, though," he struggled to say. She waved off his concern easily.

"Have you eaten yet?" she asked. Harry found himself refraining from mentally kicking himself for already having done so.

"Yeah, actually."

"Oh, okay then. You must be busy so I'll let you go," she smiled. She turned to enter the Great Hall when he reached out and grabbed her arm. He hadn't been thinking when he did it. It just happened.

"Wait!" He couldn't just let her enter there! That would be like throwing a sheep to a pack of wolves.

Her brown eyes watched him curiously, flickering from his hand to his face. He quickly dropped her arm, as if he had been burned. He felt the heat crawl up his neck under her gaze and he nervously pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

"Erm – that is…" The thought of Seamus suddenly flashed in his mind. He abruptly reached up and untied her hair, and watched as it gracefully cascaded over her shoulders. It was sprinkled with beads of water, but he found that it only made her look like a pixie. She looked at him inquisitively, and he found that he had to clear his throat once again. "I…I like your hair down."

"Oh, all right," she laughed. He felt his stomach contract again, and he frowned, pressing a hand against his abdomen. Maybe he should stop by the Hospital Wing to see if he could get a potion to relieve his troubled stomach. "I suppose I'll just have to wear it down more often then. See you, Harry."

Then she turned and walked away, her heels reverberating against the floor. He bleakly watched as her fiery locks danced behind her until she disappeared from his sight.

Well, at least one thing was certain. It wasn't going to be hard finding a willing boy. Not hard at all.


	3. Chapter 3: A Little Girl Talk Never Hurt

A Matchless Match

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

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Chapter Three: A Little Girl Talk Never Hurt Anyone 

_I need a hero  
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night  
He's gotta be strong  
And he's gotta be fast  
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight  
I need a hero  
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light  
He's gotta be sure  
And it's gotta be soon  
And he's gotta be larger than life!_

_-Frou Frou, Holding Out For A Hero_

Harry settled on the common room's comfortable couch, right in front of the thriving fire. Apparently, some wicked Slytherin had slipped a Nauseating Potion into the Pumpkin Juice the night before. Many misfortunate people ended up spending all night hurling uncontrollably and many were still in the Hospital Wing. Luckily, Harry had not been too affected by the potion for presently his stomach was better – a bit uneasy, but better.

Now that Harry had finished his disgusting Potions essay, he shuffled in his bag until he took out the parchment he was looking for. Leaning to the table and dipping his quill into the inkpot. Then he tapped it against his parchment. He had decided to start a new list, one that recorded things in a nice and organized manner.

Thoughtfully, he brushed his white quill against his face. He would first separate the list based on the separate houses. And since he had already done some research on the Gryffindor boys, he might as well start with them, but first he had to figure out how to organize all the information. _Name, year, house, appearance (1-10 and description), intelligence (1-10), bravery (1-10), best subject, Quidditch, hobbies, comments._

After a pause, Harry tacked on "_Good Kisser (1-10 and according to who)._"

Just as he was about to begin, he was disrupted by a bunch of high-pitched giggles coming from across the room. He glanced over to see Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil giggling loudly, with their heads bent toward each other on a table. They were so close that Lavender's blonde hair was practically touching Parvati's black hair. Harry shrugged and was about to start again when he couldn't help but overhear some of their conversation.

"And then he leaned in –!"

"No!"

"_Yes_!"

More shrill tittering.

"But you know, that other one was more skilled. Padma said the other day that while Gryffindors…Ravenclaws have…"

Harry strained to listen now, not quite understanding with the two girls giggling in loud and sudden bursts. This could be quite useful. If anyone knew anything about boys, it should be the two infamous Gryffindor flirts. They seemed to know about the love lives of _everyone_. But at this rate, with all their silly laughter, he wouldn't hear anything he wanted to anytime soon.

He'd confronted Snape at his most vicious mood before, so he could handle a little girl talk. Right?

Before he could over think this contemplation, he rose from his seat and walked over to the girls. It almost felt like a death sentence. He swallowed hard. It took more courage than he was willing to admit not to turn around and run when they spotted him. They giggled even more, causing him to flush.

Smooth. He had to act smooth.

"Erm, h-hi guys," he muttered, standing awkwardly in front of them.

"Hi Harry," the two of them said, twirling their hair with their fingers. He always found it odd when girls did that. Their eyes ran over him and he self-consciously ran a hand through his chaotic black hair. "What can we do for you?"

_Smooth, Harry, smooth._

"Cayuhepmai?" he blurted out.

_Oh yeah, that was _great

He resisted smacking himself in the face. Why was it that when it mattered the most, he always managed to lose his grip on the English language? Whatever he said sounded much more like broken Japanese or Chinese! Perhaps even Greek. Maybe this was some sort of incurable disease that only he was misfortunate enough to have. The Spontaneous-Switching-of-Language disease. Or something else that sounded just as ridiculous.

"Um, what?" Lavender blinked, throwing a glance at her best friend to see if she had caught what Harry said, but only received a blank stare back.

"Err – that is, what I meant to say was…" he fumbled, trying to think. Normally thinking wasn't this hard. Why was he always so horrible with the opposite sex? Perhaps if he spoke slowly… "I was wondering…if you two could…help me. You see," he continued when they watched him with interest, "I have this friend and she's in a horrible relationship right now."

"Oh no," Parvati said sympathetically. Lavender nodded in agreement.

"Yes!" he said eagerly, glad that they understood whatever he was saying when he wasn't quite sure himself. "You see he forgot…forgot their…their w-week-and-a-day anniversary!"

"_No boy should forget that!_" Lavender cried, shocked. Parvati had gasped loudly and covered her mouth with her hands.

"Exactly," Harry continued, putting on his "I'm-so-sad" face. This was working far better than he had expected. "And for their first month anniversary, he got her…a notebook."

"How tragic!" Parvati let out a choked sob.

"I know," Harry concurred solemnly. "It wasn't even pink."

"Of course we'll help you, Harry!" Lavender stated firmly. "No girl should be with a brute like that!"

"So what do you need us for? Sabotage?" Parvati questioned, an evil glint in her eye. "Want one of us to seduce the guy and have her catch him cheating?"

"Or we could simply get it in his head that we can't just have a bloke walking around forgetting anniversaries," Lavender suggested, smiling viciously, drumming her red nails against the table.

"Er, no!" he said quickly, wondering if the girls had ever done such things before. "I want to…erm, find her a better bloke is all. Really, it's enough."

"Then you've come to the right place, Harry," Lavender stated, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder. "What do you need to know?"

Harry took a seat and took out his quill and parchment. "I was wondering if you could tell me anything about…"

* * *

Harry let out a groan as he shook his still-red right hand wearily. He couldn't believe all that he wrote last night. Well, he sighed, he supposed it was worth it in the end because he got much needed information that no bloke would have been able to tell him. But still, he couldn't simply rely on the data from Lavender and Parvati – for one thing, they were probably biased. Lavender hadn't been kind when describing Seamus at all. Not that he didn't agree with her. 

His emerald eyes scanned his parchment again as he strolled down the halls. Idly, he pressed a hand to his stomach, hoping that it wasn't queasy anymore.

_Name: Justin Finch-Fletchley  
Year: Sixth  
House: Hufflepuff  
Appearance (1-10 and description): 10. Curly brown hair, tall (6'1)  
Intelligence (1-10): 8.5  
Bravery (1-10): 7.5  
Best Subject: History of Magic  
Quidditch: No  
Hobbies: Girls, shopping  
Good Kisser (1-10 and according to who): 9, Susan Bones, Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Hannah Abbott…  
Comments: A rich Muggleborn, attacked at the Dueling Club (Second Year), and petrified by the Basilisk the same year. Loyal since he was part of the DA. Rumor has it that he went after five girls at the same time – and got them. Also famed for making it up the Hufflepuff girl's dorm (and was welcomed)._

_Parvati: "Handsome beyond belief!"  
Lavender: "Lovely arm candy if any girl can manage to keep a leash on him."  
Katie Bell: "A bit full of himself, but aside from that…not too bad of a guy."_

_Name: Terry Boot  
Year: Sixth  
House: Ravenclaw  
Appearance (1-10 and description): 7.5. Dark hair, medium height (5'10)  
Intelligence (1-10): 9  
Bravery (1-10): 6.5  
Best Subject: Potions (currently taking N.E.W.T.-level Potions)  
Quidditch: No  
Hobbies: Studying, socializing  
Good Kisser (1-10 and according to who): 7.5, Victoria Frobisher  
Comments: Part of DA, Muggleborn, nice, friendly. However, friend of Michael Corner. Nice bloke aside from his choice of stupid friends. Never had any serious relationships, just a few short-lived ones now and again._

_Parvati: "He's a gentlemen. You know, he opens doors and stands up when a girl enters a room. An old-fashioned boy is always sexy."_

Although Harry had so much new information on blokes, he had the strangest feeling that none of them were…right. It was a gut feeling, really. For example, Justin Finch-Fletchley. While he was one of the most handsome boys in the school, he was a bit too arrogant and flighty with girls. He liked to flaunt his wealth and while he was smart, he loved to brag about it. Then there was Terry Boot. Harry rather liked him, but as for being with Ginny…? His bravery was a bit too low for Harry's tastes. Plus neither of those two played Quidditch at all!

When Harry reached the Great Hall, he quickly hid the parchment in his bag. He spotted a glint of red and couldn't resist smiling. Suddenly he was glad he decided to have some breakfast, queasy stomach or not. Breakfast was always good for the soul and the brain after all.

"Hi Ginny," he said, sliding into the seat directly across from her. Next to him were Hermione and Ron, but they seemed a bit consumed in their own conversation.

"Hi Harry," Ginny said brightly. He noticed that her hair was down and fought a pleased smile from his face, though he wasn't quite sure why he was happy about it. He really didn't mind much whether her hair was up or down. She still looked lovely all the same. He just didn't like that boys would be gaping at her neck and daydreaming about it. She handed him a slice of buttered toast as she said, "It's a great day for flying! Last night's shower cleared up most of the clouds and the sun's out."

He nodded in response as he took a bite into the buttered toast that she gave him. Was it just him, or did toast just jump up on the list of his favorite foods? It tasted delicious and was fulfilling. Yes, he should have buttered toast more often.

"So we have Quidditch practice today, right?" she asked, her eyes on the new piece of toast she was buttering.

"That's right," Harry nodded. He nudged the redhead to his right. "You remember, right, Ron?"

"Oh yeah," he said in a false cheerful voice after he choked down the food that he had crammed into his mouth. He looked a light shade of green, as if he had just drunk some of last night's Nauseating Potion. He was nervous about the first practice.

"Don't worry about it Ron," Harry said, already worried about Ron's lack of confidence in himself.

"That's right, Ron," Hermione said firmly, pressing her lips against his cheek, causing him to blush a deep hue.

"Neville!" Ginny called out, causing Harry's head and Ron's head to rise. The smiling girl waved the nervous raven-haired boy over. "Sit with us!"

"A-A-Are you sure?" he stuttered, nearly tripping over his own legs. His face was as red as a tomato, and the smile on his face was a mile wide. Harry noticed that all the boys were throwing daggers at Neville with their nasty glares.

"Of course," she said, patting the seat next to her.

Hesitantly, Neville sat there, throwing quickly glances at Ron. He smiled apprehensively at Harry, but for some reason Harry couldn't find the power to smile back.

"How have you been, Neville? I don't see you around as much as I used to last year," she began.

"O-Oh! I-I've been busy," he stammered, rubbing his neck timidly. Harry resisted rolling his eyes. Neville sounded almost like Professor Quirrell. He wondered if kicking Neville would fix the problem. "I thought you'd b-be too busy to talk with m-me."

Ginny set down her butter knife and looked Neville straight in the eye. "Neville, you know I'm never too busy for you. We've been through a lot together," she said, smiling mischievously. "The Yule Ball, the DA… Don't say something depressing like that."

Harry had this uncontrollable urge to pick up his butter knife and stab it right into his chest – or Neville's. And for the life of him, he was completely clueless to why.

"Y-You mean it?" Neville asked quietly.

"Oh, Neville, your tie," Ginny pointed out, leaning closer to him. Neville took in a sharp breath as Ginny's head bent over to fix the offensive article, more heat flooding his face, if possible, as her scarlet tresses brushed against his shirt.

Was it just Harry, or did the room just suddenly get very, very hot?

"He can dress himself, Ginny," Harry said rather pointedly. "You're not his mum."

She rolled her eyes in response, removing her hands from Neville's secured tie. "Why thank you Harry, for pointing out the obvious."

"Harry's right," Ron corroborated, slamming his spoon against the table violently. Blokes from other tables either jumped, or snickered at Neville. "If you go around touching every guy in sight, people are going to get the wrong idea. Even if it is just Neville."

Neville emitted a small squeak and bowed his head. Ginny's head swerved to her brother, her eyes glinting furiously.

"I do not need permission to touch anyone – especially not _yours_, Ronald Weasley!" she hissed, her expression remarkably resembling Mrs. Weasley. "And what do you mean _just _Neville? He's a great bloke that any girl could like! He, unlike _some _people, doesn't need five years to get his head out of arse and ask the girl he likes out! Now if you'll excuse me!"

She bolted upright, grabbed her things, and proceeded to march out the Great Hall. Neville's face was torn between happy and upset, as Ron's face contorted a horrible maroon. Before Harry even knew what he was doing, he found himself racing after the irate redhead.

"Ginny!" he called out as he ran up to her. She turned, her face still covered with a scowl. "You all right?"

She sighed in frustration, dragging a hand through her scarlet locks. "I suppose. Ron has always been a prat. Probably always will be."

Harry felt the corners of his mouth tug upward. "Well, anyway, don't worry about him. We'll shut him up once I find you Mr. Right. By the way, I forgot to ask you, just what kind of guy are you looking for?"

"Kind of guy?"

"You know," he continued, leading her outside into the bright sunlight. "I need to know for your matchmaking."

"Oh, well, I hadn't really thought about it," she replied.

"So you have absolutely no idea?" he coaxed.

"Hmmm," she said, seating herself under the shade of a tree. Idly, she twirled her hair with her index finger. He didn't know why, but when she did it…it was just so much better than when Lavender or Parvati did it. Ginny just…did it better, he supposed. "Well, what kind of guy do you think is right for me?"

"Me?" Harry asked, taken aback. "Well, I…erm…well someone who's definitely brave." He hesitated, but she smiled encouragingly. He sat down on the ground next to her and frowned in his musings. "He doesn't have to be a hero, but he has to have courage. I'm sure you wouldn't stand for anything less. A good and kind heart, always out to help others. And he has to be smart – I mean, not a genius like Hermione or anything, but he has to know something. A skill or talent, of course, never hurt because then he would stand out a little. Not too much either because then it might get to his head and haughtiness isn't appealing. In fact, he should be modest!

"He doesn't have to have a great talent with girls – some blokes who do simply are a bit too smooth in my opinion. But he has to understand you and give you space when you need it. He needs to know what his limits are. Humor – he has to be witty and funny with a sense of humor that matches yours.

"And Quidditch!" he burst out animatedly. "He _has_ to either be good at Quidditch or a huge fan. But he has to love flying. Your family should approve of him too or you'll never really get to be with him. He has to be able to stand up to your brothers – all seven of them."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, but Harry continued.

"And looks don't hurt. He doesn't need to be the handsomest bloke out there, but he should be at the very least decent. Personally, I think it's better for him to have dark hair because blonde probably would clash a little bit with your red hair. And he has to be taller than you of course.

"Oh – and don't forget kissing. That's one of the main reasons why I'm trying to set you up of course. Your perfect kiss. It's a vital thing. So good kisser – no, great kisser! It's a must."

He took a deep breath from all his talking.

"Of course, I…haven't been giving much thought to it…"

Ginny let out a rich laugh. Then, pushing her hair out of her face, she turned and smiled at him, her brown eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Harry, you're aiming pretty high up there."

"You deserve the best," he insisted, blushing slightly. It was rather hot outside, even under the shade.

"Do I?" she murmured under her breath as she leaned over and began to tear pieces of grass from the ground. "But what if the best doesn't want me?"

Harry's throat felt constricted. "What crazy bloke wouldn't want you?"

She slowly looked up, straight at him, and he couldn't breathe. He never noticed how her eyes weren't simply just brown like Ron's. Her eyes were a swirl of different shades of brown, running from dark chocolate to honey. And there was something there in them. Something raw and passionate. Why had he never noticed it before? Why hadn't he tried?

"I don't know, Harry," she smiled halfheartedly. "I don't know."

* * *

Naru-chan: What did you think? Please review and let me know! 


	4. Chapter 4: Oh, Brother

A Matchless Match

By: Naru-chan

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Naru-chan: Chapter four! I really like this chapter! I hope you do too!

* * *

Chapter Four: Oh, Brother 

_Watch all the idiots fall on me  
Running out of ways to get outta the way  
Take another shot just to stay the same  
But I need some balance - Back it off  
Fill your lungs 'til it makes you cough  
Tell me everything's gonna be alright   
'Cause I don't think I'll make it through tonight_

_-Skipknot, The Opium of the People_

Harry Potter loved to fly. Ever since the very first moment he had lifted from the ground, it had become a second nature for him. Sometimes he loved being in the air more than on the solid ground. Was it how the wind whipped through his hair? Or was it how his uniform billowed wildly around him? Or perhaps it was how he felt he was rising above and beyond, leaving everything – all his troubles and worries – behind him? Whatever the reason was, he loved flying and he sincerely hoped that nothing would ever take it away from him.

But at that very moment, he was a _bit_ too stressed to enjoy it.

Ginny whizzed past him, a blur of red and gold, zipping past Dean Thomas's well-aimed Bludger. She did a flip in the air, and before he knew it, Katie Bell was holding the red Quaffle. Demelza Robins soon followed behind the duo, and all three of them charging head on toward the distressed Ron. In a flash, the bright red Quaffle flew through one of the three hoops, just a few inches from Ron's outstretched fingers.

Harry sighed. His Chasers were all doing a fantastic job - especially Ginny, who seemed to be the life of the team, but Ron had been distracted all day. Nevertheless, Harry couldn't blame him with Hermione sitting in the bleachers watching. It hadn't been a bad thing at first. In fact, her cheering had caused the redheaded boy to improve at the beginning and everything had been fine.

But then Cormac McLaggen had decided to sit next to the pretty brunette.

Harry gritted his teeth and glared at the arrogant boy. He knew that Cormac was doing this on purpose just to get under Ron's skin. Cormac was still angry that Ron had made Keeper rather than himself. But Harry knew very well from his research that Cormac didn't like Hermione. Not that he needed his research to tell him. The damn brute had been ogling at a certain pretty redhead the whole practice – and it hadn't been Ron.

That only proceeded to agitate Harry even more.

"Keep your eye on the Quaffle!" Ginny hissed angrily at Ron, who prominently turned a deep scarlet. She still hadn't forgiven him for that morning. He bared his teeth at his younger sister, who only returned the favor.

"Relax, Ron," Harry called out encouragingly, hoping that Ron wouldn't let Cormac bother him.

"I'm relaxed!" Ron snapped. "Who says I'm not relaxed?"

Harry distinctly heard Ginny snort behind him before she zipped away again, for which he was glad, knowing her famous Bat Boogey Hex.

He bit back a groan as he watched Ron struggle to concentrate before he pulled his broom upward and squinted up at the air. Even though he was captain of the team, his job was still the Seeker. There was always something about this position that he loved more than all the others. The fact that in the midst of everything – the scoring, the Bludgers, the roaring of the crowd – there was something out there in the clear, wide, endless sky waiting for him catch caused something to grow inside of him that he could never place his finger on. It was up to him to find it and catch it. Only then could the game end. As long as no one else caught the precious Snitch…

"_Don't you dare touch her you little-_ !" Ron bellowed furiously as Cormac leaned over to put his arm around Hermione, who was trying to squirm away.

But Ron never finished that sentence because a Bludger smashed right into his jaw.

"RON!" Hermione screamed in horror as his body was pushed off his broom through the hoop and he slowly fell to the ground with a sickening CRACK that resounded in the stadium. She heaved Cormac aside and raced down to the Quidditch patch.

Harry quickly flew over, the other teammates following. Ginny was already there, gently lifting Ron's head and examining the swelling bruise that was beginning to form. Harry could tell it wasn't going to be a pretty sight. Just as he was about to lean over Ron, Hermione shoved through the crowd and fell next to Ron's limp body. She stared at him helplessly, her brown eyes as wide as saucers.

"He's unconscious," Ginny informed everyone, but her eyes were looking directly at Harry.

"Harry, I think you'd better take him to the Hospital Wing," Katie spoke up quietly. "I think something might be broken, so it's best if you check."

Harry nodded curtly and began to carefully lift Ron up. When Ginny began to help with the other side, Harry shook his head at her and nodded toward Hermione, who had rushed to Ginny's side. Ginny nodded back in understanding and handed Ron's arm out to Hermione.

"You all go ahead and hit the showers," Harry informed the team. Ginny lagged behind when the others turned. She frowned at him.

"Take care of the idiot, okay?" she said, her eyes narrow with concern. He smiled slightly at her. It was her way of caring about Ron.

Carefully, Harry and Hermione carried their unconscious friend to the Hospital Wing. Every once in a while she would sniff quietly. After they settled Ron in a bed, Hermione simply sat beside him and stared at him quietly.

Harry was about the turn to find Madam Pompfry when suddenly Ron's arm reached out and grabbed Harry's tightly. Hermione gasped sharply and Harry spun around. He felt immediately relieved that Ron was okay, but the look on Ron's face stopped him from smiling.

"Harry…" croaked Ron, his face twisted in pain. "Pr…protect…Gin…ny…"

With that, the redhead fell back onto the bed without delay.

Harry stared at his best friend with wide eyes as dread filled his heart.

"Oh no."

* * *

It was quiet. _Too_ quiet.

Harry was trying not to run down the halls. Trying and failing. He needed to remain calm! He had no idea how many people already knew – what, with that secret society everywhere. He now desperately wished for his Marauder's Map and his Invisibility Cloak, but he just didn't have the time to get them. It would be too late. He had to use his brain. Where could she be?

"Harry! Harry!" a clamor of voices called out to him and he cringed inside. He knew it. They had found him. He turned to see a huge crowd of boys rushed his way. It was such a terrifying sight to see. It was a combination of Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors, all of them screaming and fighting with each other as they hurried to him. From the cacophony they were causing, he barely refrained himself from covering his ears. And from cowering. Furtively, he glanced about for an escape.

Harry Potter was never a lucky boy.

"Harry!" Colin squeaked before someone pushed him aside.

"There you are!" Seamus said eagerly, slamming his hand against another boy's face just to speak to Harry. His face was flushed brightly and there was a wild look in his eyes.

"We've all heard!" Justin Finch-Fletchley cried out, kicking a boy behind him while he threw a quick glare over his shoulder. "Ron's out of the picture!"

"That means - !" Ritchie Cootie began before his body disappeared into the tidal wave of enthusiastic boys that threatened to crash into Harry.

"That you're the substitute brother!" Eddie Carmichad, a Seventh Year Ravenclaw who had tried to con Ron and Harry the year earlier during the O.W.L. exams, finished. He growled at the pack behind him.

"This means that if you give the thumbs up to me - !" Terry Boot jumped up behind Eddie's shoulder before the whole group lurched forward.

"No, _me_!"

"Are you kidding, you're nothing but a - !"

"She'd never go for _you_! What she needs is - !"

Harry's head spun frantically with all their bickering. He couldn't pick between them even if he wanted to! Colin was too short, Cootie was too tall, Justin was too handsome, Seamus was too full of himself, Eddie was too untrustworthy, Terry Boot too old fashioned…! He slowly edged away, hoping desperately that the boys were too busy with their squabbling to notice him making a run for it, when he heard even more voices.

"Potter!" a sneering voice came from behind him. Harry swung around and his jaw dropped. _Malfoy? _No, it was worse than that…it was a whole _pack _of Slytherins! _Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Goyle, Crabbe…_ Harry felt faint.

"Tell us where she is," Nott demanded, his face twisted in a jeer. Too ugly, Harry thought.

"He will bloody not!" Roger Davis, another Seventh Year Ravenclaw scoffed back. Too loud, Harry thought. "Why are you filthy Slytherins interested in her anyway?"

"She's obviously been mis-sorted," Malfoy sniff. "She's a sly Slytherin if I ever saw one."

Cabbe and Goyle chuckled gruffly. Too stupid, Harry thought, clutching his aching head.

"Take that back, Ferret-Face!" Neville cried from the back. Harry could distinctly see him waving Trevor in the air.

"Well we won't let you get to her!" claimed Eddie Carmichad.

"Oh, don't think a few measly nerds will stop us!" Zabini snorted.

"What did you just call us?" Anthony Goldstein, another Ravenclaw, stepped forward with his wand raised warningly.

"You heard me!" Zabini laughed acerbically. "What are you going to do? Throw books at us?"

"You Slytherins aren't worth the dirt that touches her feet!" Dean scoffed.

"And if you Gryffindors are so courageous, why have you been scared by a tiny Weasel?" mocked Malfoy, tossing his blonde hair back. His mouth twisted between a smirk and a sneer.

"What about yourself? Are _you _scared of a Gryffindor?" Cormac McLaggen retorted.

"Why you insolent little - !"

Harry made a run for it, just as hexes and curses were being shot between the two clusters. Panting heavily, he glanced over his shoulder to see that the fight had evolved from Slytherins versus everyone else to simply an all-out fight fest. Some of the blokes had resorted to plain fist fighting! He had to find Ginny before this crazy mob did.

He didn't know why, but he felt that she was still in the showers. He couldn't explain this gut feeling, but he went with it. What he did know was that whenever she was stressed or worried, she took long showers. She surely was worried about Ron's condition. He was probably going to be out for at least two days. But at this moment, Harry couldn't think about his best mate. He had to catch her before she left and fell into the clutches of that mad horde!

He leapt up the stairs and flew down the corridors. He felt the sweat trickle down his forehead. He had to make it there in time before the mob realized that he was missing.

And then he saw her! There she was, stepping out of the girl's showers, her face flushed from the steam that rose behind her. Her scarlet locks cascaded down her shoulders as she turned to him and her eyes widened at his disheveled state.

"Harry - ?"

"Ginny!" he cried out, reaching her just in time to see a soiled group of boys down the hall coming from a distance behind her. Her eyes widened in shock as she stared directly behind him and he knew where the other half was now. "**RUN**!"

"What?" she exclaimed in confusion. "What's going on?"

He didn't think. He just did. He grabbed her around the waist with his arm, threw her over his shoulder, and ran.

It was funny how well she fit.

"Harry Potter! What do you think you're doing?" she screamed in astonishment. "I'm not a sack of potatoes! Put me down!"

"Can't!" he panted heavily. "Saving you!"

"What do you –" she glanced up to see the mass of blokes, all of which were in a terrible disarray and stampeding toward them. Their feet pounded against the floors, practically causing a miniature earthquake. Her brown eyes widened with panic. "_Faster_ Harry! Faster!" she screamed frantically.

"I'm trying!" he groaned pitifully as they whipped past a corner, his emerald eyes dancing about, still searching for a getaway. He wrenched open the first door he saw and swiftly entered, closing the door behind them immediately. It wasn't until he saw the darkness that he realized his fatal mistake.

They were in a broom closet.

* * *

Naru-chan: You like? You like? Review! 


	5. Chapter 5: A Tight Spot

A Matchless Match

By: Lady Lithe

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Naru-chan: Chapter 5! Whoo! Thanks all of you that reviewed! Means a lot! Enjoy now!

* * *

Chapter Five: A Tight Spot 

_I can feel my heart  
And it's fit to burst  
I try to clean it up  
But it just got worst.  
-Bap Kennedy, Moonlight Kiss_

Harry couldn't breathe.

The broom closet that he had found himself in just so happened to be one that was famous for its lack of space – with good reason, of course. There seemed to be _just_ enough space to fit him and Ginny, but that was about it. And while he was usually extremely comfortable with her, he definitely was not at this very moment. His heart was pounding madly in his chest and he felt the sweat on his flushed face. Breathing was usually something that didn't take much effort for him. He was quite good at it, if he said so himself. And when he was out of breath – with his heart ramming away, he usually could open his mouth and breathe. But right now he simply couldn't.

But Ginny. Ginny could breathe. Oh yes, could she. He could feel her hot breath whisper gently over his skin, causing his entire body to tense up. It was torturous reminder of the space between them – lack of space that is. After all, her body was pressed firmly against his.

His mind couldn't operate with this lack of oxygen.

He knew that the mass had rushed past the corner and had found itself staring at an empty corridor when he heard muffled cries of distress and anger and when he felt the minor trembles from the ground below him. Unconsciously, he held Ginny closer.

"Where did they go?" an aggravated Malfoy's voice floated through.

"We _Ravenclaws_ will find them first!" a stifled Eddie Carmichad cried, rallying up the other Ravenclaws. "C'mon! We're smarter than the rest of them!"

"No – _we'll _find them first! They're Gryffindors like us and we think alike!" Seamus retorted. Harry heard him stomp his foot.

There were more livid cries before the group of voices slowly faded away. He assumed that they had split up into four, each section believing it was better than the other ones were. But while they were gone, he didn't think it was safe enough for them to leave either. It was just as – if not more dangerous now since there were _four_ raving mad packs of boys stalking about.

He swallowed hard as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Ginny's head slowly rose so that she could see him. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the dark and her hair seemed glossier and a richer hue.

"Harry?" she whispered.

"Y-Yes?" he whispered back, not quite sure why they were speaking so softly, though it did seem like it was the most appropriate thing to do in a situation like this. Not that he knew what to do because he had never been in a broom closet. Much less with a girl. And Ginny was most _certainly_ a girl.

"What…what just happened?" she asked, confusion still in her low, husky voice. Even in the dark he could feel her intense eyes watching him.

"Er – that was…" He couldn't very well tell her that that was the whole entire school's population of boys that was madly in love with her. He didn't want her to know. "I'm…not sure."

"Oh…" she hesitated. He could barely hear her – and not because she was speaking too softly. It was because her flowery scent was intoxicating his brain so that he was losing his mental abilities. He idly thought to himself that it wasn't so bad to lose brain cells. " – do now?"

"What?" he blinked, shaking his head slightly in vain hopes of clearing it.

"What should we do now?" she whispered again, a frown on her face.

"Well, we could…" he struggled to formulate words. He reached behind him for the doorknob and when his fingers finally grasped around it, he turned. His heart stopped when all he heard was a reluctant "click." He tried again, but he only gained the same result. "Oh Merlin…it's locked."

"What?" she said in an incredulous low voice.

"I'm serious!" he whispered fiercely. This was so strange! Part of him was panicking. So why was the other part of him cheering? Who on earth would be happy about being locked in a broom closet? A very _tight_ broom closet. With a girl. With Ginny.

Harry's head hurt.

"Oh no…don't tell me we're in the broom closet that only opens from the outside," she sighed.

"How do you know of that?" he demanded heatedly. He suddenly had a very unpleasant image of Ginny and some random, definitely-not-good-enough bloke trapped inside this very same closet doing some rather un-innocent things.

"That's none of your business," she huffed. Then she groaned. "Well…now what can we do?" He felt her breath tickle his skin, making his black hair stick on end.

"It's…it's probably best that we…we stay in here," he answered, forgetting all his previous anger. Was it just him or did his voice sound different? "I…I mean, Merlin knows what will happen if we meet up those boys again."

It was then that he fully registered their tight position. He was literally plastered between her warm body and the door. One of his arms embraced her waist to protect her back from the hard wall behind her while the other had snaked behind her shoulders – where he knew at least they would be obedient and chaste. At least hands were…before the one on her shoulder started touching her soft and silky locks. It had been so natural to do so he hadn't even realized what he was doing. Her hair was still slightly damp. Her arms were holding his shoulders and he couldn't help but feel how slender and feminine they were. And their legs…their legs were quite tangled. He felt the heat flood his face and he was suddenly glad for the veil of darkness around them.

It had to be the lack of oxygen. Had to be.

"Well," she laughed a little breathlessly, "this is quite a situation we're in."

"Yeah," he croaked. Her face was so close that he could even count her freckles if he wanted to. Not that he wanted to. He didn't. Honest.

"You, Harry Potter, always seem to be caught in the middle of these things," she grinned mischievously. Her wide eyes flickered over his face. He felt shivers crawl up his spine and hoped desperately that she didn't notice.

"So you…you and," he began, struggling for words, "and Michael Corner."

She snorted and he suddenly felt his heart lift. Michael Corner had always seemed like a prat to him. That was why he was happy she snorted at his name. Of course it was. "What about him?"

"I meant that he wanted to get back together with you," he said with bated breath. He couldn't seem to tear his emerald gaze away from her lips.

Had they always been so…nice?

"Oh, so you heard. Well, yes, I suppose he did, but I don't believe he will be pestering me anytime soon after he had a taste of my Bat Boogey Hex."

"Taste of you?" he blurted out before he could help himself. He felt himself getting redder. No, no, no, that couldn't be right.

"No, Harry," she said, a perplexed look on her face. She lifted a hand and pressed it against his forehead. "Are you alright? You're not sick are you? You feel a little bit hot…"

"Hot? I'm not hot!" he squeaked, wishing desperately that she hadn't moved because he had felt every single movement. "I'm quite cold, really!"

"Really?" she asked, moving closer if possible as he felt his head spin madly.

She was a breath away from his face and if he simply leaned forward…just a centimeter…just one…then –

Then Harry felt himself flying backwards, his arms instantly grabbing onto Ginny, before he crashed into the ground. He groaned in pain, but at the same time he couldn't help but notice the nice contrast between the cold, hard ground and Ginny's warm, soft body. Maybe the pain had been worth it.

"Oh my goodness! Harry! And…and!" a shrill female and familiar voice shrieked.

Harry's eyes opened with a snap, only to see a raven-haired Asian girl with her hands pressed to her flushed face. "C-Cho?"

Ginny and Harry rose to their feet quickly and Harry tried to look as innocent as possible.

"Oh Harry! Are you…are you two?" Cho Change cried, large tears beginning to form in her eyes.

"NO!" he burst out, heat flooding his face so much that he wondered if he was as red as Ginny's hair. He shook his hands in front of him frenetically. "We're not – the two of us!"

Suddenly Cho leapt into his arms and began sobbing into his chest. Never being good with crying and emotional girls, his hands awkwardly danced about in the air aimlessly.

"Oh Harry!" she wept, clinging to his robes and appearing to not have heard a single word he said. "M-Michael…! H-H-He doesn't want me anymore! He wants _her! _And y-y-you! Please don't tell me that you w-w-want her t-t-t-_tooooo_!"

"N-No, Cho," he blubbered in a panicked manner. "Ginny and I – we aren't – we're just friends, right Ginny?"

He looked up with a frantic smile, expecting fully to see the redhead beside him, but instead he was greeted by an empty corridor and a ringing silence.

"Ginny…?"

* * *

Naru-chan: What do you think? Hmm? Hmm? Hmmmmmm? Review please! XD Thanks for reading! (Short I know, but really, how long could I keep them in there...?) 


	6. Chapter 6: Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall

A Matchless Match

By: Lady Lithe

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and no profit was made writing this. None whatsoever.

Naru-chan: Another day, another chapter, eh? Thanks all of you that reviewed. I enjoy feedback of any kind. It's always nice. I hope you get the title, I'm more than willing to explain, but I doubt you'll need me to. :)

* * *

Chapter Six: Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall

_I am tired of being my own rival! – Christian, Cyrano de Bergerac_

Wherever Ginny had gone, Harry couldn't find her. He felt that he needed to explain. What it was that he needed to explain was beyond him, but he felt that something had gone wrong and that Ginny was upset. It was so strange – first of all that she simply left, and secondly the fact that he couldn't find her. He checked all her favorite spots – the tree near the Black Lake, the quiet corner in the library where the two of them had shared chocolate the year before, the bustling common room, the Room of Requirement.

Nothing.

The one good thing he did feel was that if _he_ couldn't find her then surely none of the other insane groups would be able to find her either.

But it turned out that he wouldn't have to worry too much about this because Ron would make a speedy recovery, probably because of sheer stubborn will, and would be up and about by nightfall. Granted, he would have a large bandage, but he was well enough to be throwing suspicious glances at every male in the school. The mad groups would disappear and an almost unsettling silence would fall on the school in contrast to the crazy events that had happened that day.

Yet Harry wasn't comforted by any of these thoughts as he settled himself in his bed. He lay very still, listening to the snoring and mumbling coming from the other beds. Something was disquieting him. There was a ceaseless stirring inside of him – strangely in his chest. The image of all the people that liked Ginny flashed in his head. With a frown, he pounded his pillow a little harder than necessary to make it comfortable. With a sigh, he absently wondered why the flowery scent of Ginny created a ball of tension in his stomach. He fell asleep wondering.

When he woke up the next morning, he wasn't sure how he felt. Not good, but not exactly bad either. He had had a dream, he thought with a yawn as he stretched out his arms above his head leisurely. He had been running after her, and though she was standing still, her back toward him, she seemed to be getting further and further away, almost as if he were running in the wrong direction.

But then it had morphed into something completely different. Suddenly he had found himself watching as Michael Corner drew Ginny close, and she was smiling up at the dark-haired Ravenclaw. She then turned slowly back to Harry, with her bright eyes twinkling and Michael's arms still around her shoulders.

"Harry, you won't believe it! It's the funniest thing! Michael – silly Michael thought that we were more than friends!" Her laughter echoed around him.

In the dream, Harry had opened his mouth to scream – he had no idea what he was screaming but he felt the urgent need to tell her something.

But no words came out.

Groggily, the now awake Harry trudged down the stairs, still tugging one arm through the hole of his black robes, when he spotted Ginny's scarlet hair. Hastily, he pulled on his robes and quickly ran his hands through his messy black hair, though he found himself hiding. She was speaking with a several blokes and with her back toward him. He could tell, though the blokes were trying to look casual, that they were obviously clinging to her every word. He idly felt a stir of irritation.

"So, do you want to head toward to Great Hall?" Dean asked, smiling in what Harry supposed Dean thought was a "laid-back" smile. Harry bit back a sneer.

"Alright, let me just go get my book," Ginny answered cheerfully. She turned away from them and began walking toward the girl's dorm when Harry stepped forward and stopped her.

"Ginny – about yesterday –" he jumbled quickly.

"Oh hi Harry," she said with a happy smile. He blinked, taken aback. So…she wasn't angry with him? And also, there was a sense of impending doom…hadn't she smiled like that in his dream? "What about yesterday?"

"Oh…well, you suddenly left so I thought that..." he faltered, not quite sure of himself anymore. It was strange, but when he heard her say in his dream that of course they were friends – which they most certainly were! – he had thought of how he said the exact same things when Cho was there. And when the horrible words had spilled from Ginny's mouth, he felt like he had been torn apart. Surely…she had felt that way too.

"Oh, don't worry about that," she laughed lightly. She absently pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "I had to go finish a paper – you know how harsh Snape is particularly this time of year." Then she paused with a bit of hesitation. "I hope you didn't mind that I just left."

"No, not at all!" he said quickly, embarrassed that he had been at all. "I was just worried that – I don't know, something I said, or Cho, or–"

"Don't be silly, Harry," she smiled, though it soon faded and a more serious expression graced her face. "We're good friends now, aren't we?"

"Of course!" he said, but there was a lick of panic through him.

Then she smiled with relief. "Good. I just want you to know that our friendship means a lot to me and that I wouldn't want anything in the world to change it."

"Ginny?" Seamus called out from where he and the other boys stood near the portrait hole.

"Coming!" she smiled at them before she picked up her book that had been lying near the steps of the girl's dorm. She speedily gave Harry a parting smile before she rushed off to the group.

Harry stood, rooted in the same spot, watching her hair swing behind her and Dean place his hand on her slender back to help her out of the portrait hole, and he couldn't help but wonder why, for just one moment, he had wanted nothing more than to destroy that friendship by leaning over and kissing her.

* * *

Harry raked his hand through his hair with frustration before he flung his quill onto the table. He had been in a rather bad mood all day. Apparently, despite Ron's return to good health, the boys seemed less afraid than they were before and it seemed to Harry that they were all approaching Ginny. In order to distract himself from the fact that he couldn't get near her at all the rest of the day (because whenever he saw her a crowd of blokes surrounded her), he had decided to devote himself to finding her match. One bloke was better than hundreds…

As for the strange urge he had had this morning…well, it must have been him wanting just a friendly little peck. To show how affectionate they were. To show how much he cared for her. How had Seamus described it? That was right. As a brother. A _completely_ platonic brother.

But he had been having trouble. He picked up the parchment he had been writing on and his stormy green eyes skimmed over it quickly. He thought he wrote down everything. Then he glared at the stack of parchments beside him. So why was this so _difficult_?

"Hey, Harry," Hermione greeted him as she slipped into the seat in front of him. She laid out all the textbooks in her arms onto the table in front of her, prepared to study. It was rare to see her without Ron, especially since he had just been hurt the other day, but Harry supposed it was because Ron was off threatening blokes about Ginny. This thought made Harry smirk with sudden vicious pleasure.

"Hermione," he answered as he continued to peruse his paper.

"What are you looking at?" she asked curiously as she opened her Potions book. Then it occurred to Harry that she could probably give him some help – she was no Lavender or Parvari, but he felt that she was more like Ginny than the other frivolous girls.

"Hey, Hermione, you're smart," Harry said, causing her to smile wryly at him. He shoved the parchment toward her. "Surely there's someone in your repertoire like this."

Her brown eyes scanned the parchment before they widened.

"Harry…is this for that matchmaking you're doing for Ginny?" she asked slowly as she tucked a chestnut curl behind her ear.

He nodded in surprise. "She told you about it?"

He supposed that Ginny had told her because the two of them were so close. Yet he couldn't help but feel stunned. He had unconsciously thought, rather foolishly he now admitted, that it had been something that was just between Ginny and himself. He scowled at himself as he rubbed the base of his neck. He shouldn't feel upset over something so trivial.

But he was.

"You may not know it, Harry, but Ginny and I have been best friends much longer than the two of you have been," Hermione said evenly. "I was her friend when you and Ron were still ignoring her existence. I probably know her better than you do."

He felt the urge to glare angrily at her. Who was she to say that she knew Ginny better? Just because they were new friends… Harry felt a pang of guilt as he remembered the first few years he had known her without really knowing her. But still! Harry felt he knew Ginny more than Hermione was giving him credit for.

"Yeah, well…I know her _now_ and that's all that matters," he stated firmly. Then he continued as he gestured to the pile of papers next to his elbow. "You see, here I have the list of all the blokes in Hogwarts."

"Oh dear Merlin, Harry!" She gasped sharply, her eyes bulging at the sight of the pile. Her fingers quickly flipped through them. "This…this is at least _sixty pages_!"

He shrugged indifferently. Had he really written that much? He hadn't realized.

"Harry, you…you barely ever finish your homework on time!"

"Yeah, well…" he fiddled with his quill. "Ginny's happiness is important to me. It's not like it can be just anybody."

"And…this is the list of what you think this Prince Charming should be like?" she asked, her gaze returning to the first sheet.

"Yeah, but I just can't seem to find him!"

She raised an eyebrow as she glanced toward the enormous pile again. Then, as her gaze returned to the list, she inquired leisurely, "Harry, who has very _dark_ black hair?"

"Me. You know that," he said with a frown as he attempted to flatten his raven locks, but he of course failed.

"And…you grew much taller over the summer, didn't you?" she posed as her eyes examined him.

"Yeah, I think so," he blushed slightly. He had indeed grown taller. He wasn't as tall as Ron – not nearly, but he felt was at a substantially nice height.

"You look even better than you did last year too. Older…more attractive…"

"I don't think that I –" he began, turning redder.

"Come on. Who has fourth years practically stalking him down the halls in hopes of getting a glimpse?" He opened his mouth with a retort, but she continued. "And who risked his life to prevent Voldemort from gaining power from the Philosopher's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, and the Department of Mysteries?"

"Me…" he rubbed his head in confusion. Why was she asking this? She obviously knew the answers. In fact, it almost seemed like they were framed just for him.

"And were you scared?"

"No…" he said honestly. "I felt like I had to do it."

"Quite a hero you are, Harry. And who has a heart of gold as shown when he freed the poor, wretched house-elf Dobby from his tortuous wizarding family?"

"Me, but what's this heart of -"

"Who speaks Parseltongue – one of the rarest abilities in the wizarding world?" she pushed onward, now leaning toward him.

"Me – but only because of Voldemort. It's not like it's something I gained through my own efforts." He flushed. "I don't deserve credit for something I didn't really work for."

She nodded her head, "And there's that modesty. Just how you hate it when people notice you because you're Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. You hate having your picture taken for the _Daily Prophet_."

"Look, back on subject, if you're not going to help me find a guy like this – " Harry began with irritation before she calmly interrupted him again.

"And you're rubbish with girls."

"Well, n-no, I like to think that I –"

"That wasn't a question." She cleared her throat at his glower. "And who is the youngest seeker in the century who received that position by breaking several rules in order to get back for his friend a Remembrall? And who caught every golden Snitch except for when Dementors attacked him?"

"Me!" He said with vexation as he ran both his hands through his hair. "But Hermione, I don't see –"

"And the bloke whom all the Weasleys consider to be family?"

"Me! Okay, Hermione! It's me! Now will you please explain to me why you're– " and then he stopped and the blood drained away from his face. He moaned pitifully before he crumpled and let his head fall onto the pile of parchments on the table.

Hermione smiled coyly as she rose and pushed the parchment toward him.

"And so who's perfect for Ginny?"

"Me…"

* * *

Naru-chan: Ha ha! He finally knows. Hm. Now what's a Potter to do:) Review please. 


	7. Chapter 7: Take Two

A Matchless Match

By: Lady Lithe

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Naru-chan: Chapter seven! Yay! Thank you all that reviewed before. I hope you like it.

* * *

Chapter Seven: Take Two

_People lie because they're afraid of what will happen if they tell the truth. –Bruce Johnson_

Harry was perfect for her.

How had he not seen it before? The way they fit in each other's arms. The way they were both gifted at Quidditch. The way they threw glances at each other and laughed at inside jokes that only they understood. The way their heights complimented each other. The way his black hair matched perfectly with her scarlet tresses. And the Weasley family absolutely loved him. It all just clicked.

But then again, that was only in his point of view. All the reasons that Hermione had told him that were comprised of what Ginny's prince should be like weren't…they weren't _her_ reasons. They were Harry's. _He_ had made them up, and perhaps, unconsciously he now admitted guiltily, he had probably been biased. Ginny hadn't agreed that that had been what she wanted – that _he_ had been what she wanted. But try as hard as he might, he simply could not picture her with anyone else. He didn't want to even try.

How could he have not known his own feelings?

All those times when he wanted to strangle any bloke that, in his opinion, was being a bit _too_ friendly to her. And all the carping he did when he was going through his list of guys. He had labeled it as just normal brotherly affection, but it actually had been anything but that.

All those times that he had lain on the couch in the common room or in the Burrow with her curled comfortably on the floor reading, sometimes silently and sometimes aloud to him – she would always just know what he was in the mood for…he would always reach out and touch her hair. There would be such a sense of serenity in the air and inside of Harry. He would often fall asleep with the sound of her soothing voice whispering over him and he would sleep with more peace than any other time.

All those times they had exchanged words. Even the smallest exchange seemed to brighten his day. And when they really spoke – they spoke like there was no tomorrow. Her jokes and imitations always left him rolling on the ground, clutching his splitting sides as he laughed without abandon. And she would watch him with an amused glint in her eye. Then there were times when he would tell her things he never told anyone, not even Ron or Hermione, and she would listen and take in what he said, never showing him pity. She would accept him.

All those times when he would unconsciously reach out for her. His emerald eyes always automatically searched the room for a glimpse of scarlet hair, and when he saw it the whole room seemed brighter. If she were in the room, his eyes would follow her every movement. When he caught the scent of flowers in the air, his mind would unknowingly reel back to times when he was with her. When she was jabbing him in his ribs. When she was pushing back a stray lock of hair. When she was smiling at him as if he was the only one she ever smiled at.

And in the end he knew that it wasn't that he was perfect for her. Oh no. It was that she was perfect for him.

Harry sighed deeply as he watched the fireplace roar from his lying position on the common room red sofa. He was keenly aware of the missing presence by his side, and his emerald eyes kept darting toward he portrait hole in hopes that the person on his mind would suddenly materialize.

He didn't know what to do now that he had realized all of this. He wasn't sure if he should hide from her until he had completely sorted his emotions or if he should just jump into the mess and confront her – or just do _something_. He half hoped that if he tried hard enough, he would be able to quell these new feelings. But the other part of him struggled so deeply against that prospect that it surprised himself. He didn't want to just lose these feelings. They weren't something he could just throw away.

Harry shoved himself up from his comfortable arrangement with determination. He couldn't just sit here and mope around! He had to find her and then–! Well…he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

Where was she? There was something in him that was tugging him toward the library, so he went with it. He had learned over years of experience to trust his gut.

He traveled down the corridors in an almost dream-like haze. He ignored the people that walked past him. He didn't even notice the group of girls that squealed at the sight of him. He felt the change in the air. And he couldn't help but wonder…what would happen if he told her how he felt?

Three words had never seemed to carry such a heavy weight before. They were all seemingly harmless words when separated. But when combined…the whole world was in chaos.

When he stopped at the door of the library, he found that he had been correct. She was sitting at a long desk, and miraculously, she was alone. Her long, crimson hair spilled over her shoulders as she tilted her head, her eyes concentrating on whatever she was writing. She took a moment to pause and scan the parchment again as she absently stroked her quill against her face. She looked as she always did, but somehow his eyes remained solely focused on her. She smiled absently to herself and he felt his heart clench. He wiped his clammy hands against his black robes and prayed that his hair looked somewhat normal. He took a deep breath and tried to take a step toward her.

He wanted to turn and run away.

But he swallowed hard. Brave. He had to be brave. He lifted his right foot and placed it down a foot away from where it had been.

_Okay, good. Very good so far, _he encouraged himself with a grin.

Then it went right back.

_No! _he scolded himself, resisting the urge to punch his own leg. _Wrong way!_

Hesitantly, his leg stepped forward again. He took a moment to calm himself down and anxiously glanced up. Good, Ginny hadn't seen him do that.

Finally in control of his legs again, he marched stiffly up to her. She glanced up and a smiled bloomed on her lovely face.

"Hi Harry."

It wasn't too late to run.

_No, I'm not running away! But…she's looking at me strangely. Why? Shoot, is there something on my face? Something stuck between my teeth? Maybe I smell! I should have showered!_

No, you idiot, she's staring at you because you've been _gaping_ at her for the past minute!

"H-Hi Ginny," Harry laughed uneasily, rubbing the base of his neck. "D-Do you mind if I sit h-here?"

She raised an eyebrow with a small baffled smile and said, "Of course. As you can see, Harry," she turned her head slowly from left to right, "no one else is sitting at this table but me."

"I-I _knew_ that of course," he laughed a bit too loudly, causing Madam Pince, the vicious librarian, to glare at him warningly. This was so _strange_! Usually, Ginny was the one that he could speak to so naturally, but in a way, he wasn't sure how to act anymore with his new realization. "I just didn't want to bother you, that's all."

"You never bother me, Harry," she replied with a wide grin. He felt his heart soar, and with a wide grin on his face, he took a seat. They both waited a beat for something to happen, and finally, Ginny spoke.

"So…what are you in the library for?"

"I…" he faltered, his brain kicking into overdrive. He couldn't very well tell her that it was because he had been looking for her! He had to say something that would…impress her. "Sutdyign."

"What?" she blinked.

"S-Studying," he amended nervously while smiling with a bit too much teeth as his face instantly turned a deep hue. Not only was that incredibly stupid of him, but _studying_? He didn't want her to think of him as another Hermione. And at this rate, with all this stuttering, another Neville.

His emerald eyes strayed to her red hair. Usually, it would feel completely ordinary to reach out and touch it. Nothing would have felt strange about the affectionate gesture. Now the simple thought of touching her at all caused his entire stomach to twist into knots.

Shoot, she said something.

"Sorry?" he cleared his throat, praying that she hadn't realized that he had been staring at her hair.

"What subject?" Then he flushed deeper. He didn't have any books with him! He fumbled for a moment to get his bag, which he was extremely glad now that he brought with him.

"U-Um," he dallied as he plunged his hand into his bag, grabbed the first thing he felt, and practically slammed it onto the table. "This!"

Then his mouth dropped in pure horror as his wide emerald eyes lay onto the photo.

"You're studying a picture…of Cho Chang?" she asked in a quiet voice, her eyes staring unwaveringly at the nervously smiling raven-haired girl in the photo.

"N-No, t-that's not - !" Harry stuttered helplessly, trying to shove away the panic that bubbled up his throat. How in Merlin's Beard had that gotten in his bag? Granted, he had never removed it, but that – that had simply been because he hadn't remembered that he had had it in the first place. "Don't get the wrong idea, Ginny!"

"Someone's defensive," she said in a playful tone, but her gaze remained locked on the picture, which she had picked up. "You still have a crush on her, don't you?"

"S-She – no, I don't!" he wailed in distress.

"_Shhhhhhhhhhhh!_" Madam Pince hissed, shoving her thin glasses closer to her narrowed eyes.

"You don't have to hide it from me, Harry," she said in a lowered voice that bordered hurt as she shoved the photo back to him. But he truly and desperately didn't want it. Just how could he convey this to her? "You can tell me. We're friends, right?"

That hurt.

"Listen to me!" he said urgently in a low voice. "_I don't like Cho!"_

"Then who _do_ you like?" she hissed back, blowing a stray lock of scarlet hair out of her golden-brown eyes, which were now dangerously narrow.

Harry opened his mouth several times before he shut it firmly as heat flooded up his face.

"I knew it," she huffed, shoving her hair out of her face several times before she let out a hiss of frustration and forcefully grabbed it and pulled it back into a high ponytail. "The least you could do is be honest about it!"

"I'm not lying to you Ginny!"

"Mr. _Potter!_" Madam Pince screeched. Several other students had turned to look at the furious pair. "One more time…!"

"Look, Ginny," he ignored Madam Pince, though he once again hushed his voice. He took her hand in his and gazed intensely into her eyes. He could hear his heart drumming in his ears, and he could feel the embarrassing heat on his cheeks, but he continued nonetheless. "When I don't want to talk to _anyone_, I can still talk to you. I mean, you're the one that I…" he stopped. He could tell her now. He could just let her know. But…what would happen if he did? What if he not only was rejected, but lost her as a friend as well? "The one that I can tell anything to. You know that."

For a moment there was nothing but his wildly beating heart before she finally closed her eyes and sighed a little. Then she opened her eyes and smiled a small smile while she gave his hand a light squeeze. "Right, because I'm such a great friend."

His throat closed over. "Right."

Her hand left his and rose in the air to a wave and her face broke out into a happy grin. She whispered eagerly, "Dean!"

Harry slowly turned around to see Dean, Seamus, Justin, Zacharias, and Terry fervently rushing over to join them – to join Ginny. He grounded his teeth against each other as he watched them flood beside her.

"Harry," Justin greeted him with a wink. Harry resisted vomiting.

"Finch-Fletchley," he acknowledged with a growl.

"What are you studying, Ginny?" Seamus asked and proceeded to casually lean over her shoulder. Harry could have sworn he was sniffing her! He really didn't need to take that deep of a breath to say that.

"Oh, just Transfigurations," she replied.

"Is Harry helping you?" Dean asked, placing a hand on her other shoulder. Harry barely resisted whipping out his wand and making sure Dean wouldn't be able to draw anytime soon. But he glared ferociously at the boy. Oh, how he glared…

"No, Harry's…studying," answered Ginny, her eyes flickering to the photo of Cho once again.

"Oh ho!" Terry Boot chuckled, grabbing the picture to scrutinize it. "Cho Chang, eh, Harry? Still not over your old flame? Getting some sisterly advice from Ginny?"

"I'M NOT HER BROTHER!" he burst out furiously, but was drowned out by Madam Pince's howls.

"THAT IS IT, POTTER! GET OUT! **OUT, OUT, **_**OUT**_"

Suddenly Harry's things were pelting him with great force, leaving him no choice but to dash from the scene. Ginny rose from her seat, but at the same moment Seamus simultaneously wrapped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her toward him. All Harry could hear through the pain of having his bag slamming into his face was the awful laughter of all the boys.

The door slammed in front of his face and imprecations flew from his mouth foully. Not caring about saving any last shred of dignity, he dove to his knees and glared through the keyhole. He could still barely see Ginny and the others as his glasses were pushed closer to his eyes. Apparently they were still laughing and having a jolly old time. Harry growled noisily as he rose to his feet and swiftly kicked the great door with all his might. He instantly regretted this rash action as sharp pain ran up his foot and leg, leaving him hopping about, clutching his foot.

"What are you looking at?" he barked at the second years that had stopped to watch, point, and whisper. They quickly scurried away and he let out a groan and ran his two hands through his disheveled black hair. He looked at the floor to see Cho's uncomfortable smile flash at him. _Well_…he thought bitterly to himself. _That was a success. _

All he had succeeded in doing as firmly establishing how great _friends _they were. And he had only helped the seed of his liking Cho grow in her. While, in a way, he was relieved that she didn't suspect his feelings for her, he had such a foreboding feeling about the whole situation.

With one last wistful glance at the door, he gathered his scattered belongings and began to head back to the common room. He shoved his hand into his bag to pull out his list because he thought finding faults in all the other blokes might improve his mood. He even wondered nastily for a moment if he should go find Ron and inform the overprotective brother of the secret society. That would teach them to get too close to her! But then again…that was a bit too cruel… He frowned for a moment as he dug even deeper and deeper, but remained empty-handed. And then he stopped just as his blood ran cold.

Where was the list?

He couldn't have misplaced it, right? He would have noticed for sure! _It was close to sixty pages! _But with his mental state as it had been… He frantically shoved his arm into his bag again, feeling his blood pound in his head. The common room – the library – the boy's dorm! There were so many places that he could have simply just left it for any passerby could have offhandedly picked it up and if it had fallen into the hands of the –! His train of thought halted abruptly as his gaze slowly moved down to the floor. He could feel it. The ground was trembling in the same way it had before, just as his heart trembled now. Harry squeezed his eyes shut before he reopened them and raised them upward.

Not again.

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Naru-chan: Ha. In case you didn't get it, the title is refering to Chapter four. "Take Two of 'Oh, Brother.'" And what did you expect - him to just get the girl? No fun... heh. But don't worry, poor Harry will eventually do that. I particularly like when he yells mentally at his legs. Anyway...review please! 


	8. Chapter 8: A Matchless Match

A Matchless Match

By: Lady Lithe

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. The great JKRowling does.

Naru-chan: Drumroll please! Thanks to all of you who reviewed! I hope you like this! It's the moment you've all been waiting for!

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Chapter Eight: A Matchless Match 

_Matchmaker, Matchmaker,  
Plan me no plans  
I'm in no rush, maybe I've learned  
Playing with matches, a girl can get burned  
So,  
Bring me no ring, Groom me no groom  
Find me no find, Catch me no catch  
Unless he's a matchless match!_

_-__Fiddler on the Roof_

At this moment, Harry wished more desperately than ever that his name wasn't "Harry." Why couldn't it have been an even _more_ common name, like Joe or Tom? (Er, okay, maybe not Tom...) Not that he was anything like a Joe or a Tom. It was just that after hearing hundreds of boys screaming "Harry" at him frenetically, he was beginning to rather detest it.

"Harry! Pick _me_! Obviously I'm the one for her! I heard you wrote 'nice hair!'" screamed Ritchie Cootie, a Gyffindor Beater, trying to show off his gleaming locks. "And I play Quidditch!"

"Harry! I do too! Ah – okay, I don't, but so what? Pick me!"

"No, no, me! See here? It says I got a 9 in Intelligence! She needs a smart bloke!" Eddie Carmichad, the seventh year Ravenclaw, hollered as Harry zipped past a corner and nearly ran right into him. He ducked as Carmichad tried to grab him before he rolled to the side and leapt to his feet.

"So what? I got a 10 right Harry, old buddy old pal?" Terry Boot cried as he jumped at Harry from the right.

"_Incarcerous_!" Harry screamed, causing thick ropes to burst out of thin air and bind themselves tightly around Boot. Mentally he apologized to the boy as he rushed up the stairs.

"I love your shoes, Harry!" Colin Creevey cried as he jumped from a moving staircase above Harry. Harry pointed his wand at the sandy-haired boy and cried a hovering charm, leaving Colin floating in the air.

"Who cares about intelligence? I got a 9 in looks! So that means it's me right, Harry? Harry!" Ernie Macmillan yelled as he attempted to block Harry's entry to the sixth floor corridor while waving a torn piece of parchment.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_" Harry cried, pointing his wand at himself. He leapt up into the air over Ernie's head and landed a good three feet away from the other boy when he uttered, "_Finite Incantatem_."

Then he continued his wild dash. He panted heavily, his throat hoarse. He was having trouble casting all these spells while running nonstop. He glanced over his shoulder to see a stampede of blokes still charging at him.

"Scarface! How much do you want?" Malfoy cried as he flew from inside a classroom.

"_Langlock!" _Harry screamed at the blonde boy, making Malfoy's tongue glue to the roof of his mouth. The blonde boy let out a muffled yelp, and even in this frantic state of mind, Harry couldn't help but wonder to himself how dimwitted Malfoy could be. One shouldn't insult who he or she is trying to _bribe _in the same sentence!

Crabbe and Goyle attempted to use their bulky bodies and brute strength to grab Harry, but he dove under Goyle's legs before he hastily scampered to his feet. His blood pounded at his ears.

"Hey, Harry, where are you going? I've been meaning to talk to you! You know, because we go way back! Wait – why are you running?" Seamus tried to stop Harry at the bottom of the seventh floor marble stairs, which was located beside a restroom.

"_Mobilicorpus!" _Harry forced Seamus to plaster himself against the wall. At least he wouldn't get trampled over. By the time Harry made it up to the seventh floor, he quickly turned around and yelled, "_Oppugno_!"

Creatures flew out from the tip of his wand and attacked the blokes. _Good_, Harry thought frantically when he heard their distracted cries. He slammed the door behind him and swiftly cast a locking spell. _That would keep them busy. _He hastily rushed past the area of blank wall opposite to a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy attempting to teach trolls how to dance the ballet.

_Where those blokes will never think of! _Harry concentrated hard as he ran past the wall three times. A door appeared and he wrenched it open and slammed it shut behind him just as he heard an unlocking spell being cast.

He tumbled onto the ground in the Room of Requirement with pure exhaustion. His breath came in piercing, ragged pants as he enjoyed the cool feeling of wood against his face. Apparently he had left the list lying on the floor near in the common room and – ironically – the secret society was holding a meeting…in the Gryffindor common room! Now all the hard work Harry had poured into those sixty pages were torn to pieces as each boy tried to get the part with his name on it. He had been chased all day long with not a single break. And it had been hard to escape when there were blokes ambushing him from every corner.

Each boy had tried to convince Harry that he was "the one" for Ginny. He could still hear their screams ringing in his head. He wondered idly while he caught his breath if his hearing would ever be the same.

Harry groaned now and wiped the sweat from his dirty face. He had earlier hid in the Forbidden Forest, but apparently nothing scared these blokes anymore. Not if Ginny was the prize. At this thought he gritted his teeth. She wasn't some trophy that he could simply hand over! Why couldn't those idiots realize that?

He looked up now, in surprise, as he realized where exactly he was. In his desperation to simply escape, he asked the Room to turn into somewhere he thought was safe. Somewhere where there wasn't the chaos that he felt around him.

Harry was in Ginny's room.

He slowly rose to his feet. It was funny… He had not been in her room before, he realized, even though he had visited the Burrow countless times. But he knew that this was her room. The scent of flowers was unmistakable. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, and let it calm him down despite the quiver he felt in his heart. It felt as if Ginny were here, embracing him.

Then he opened his eyes to take in the room. It wasn't girly, but it definitely had a feminine touch. There was a small, but cozy bed with emerald sheets. Beside it was a hand-made shelf full of various books. Harry skimmed his fingers over the old covers. She had organized them according to which books were her favorites, he realized. Then he moved over to her dresser. He was surprised and terribly pleased to see that there stood a picture frame with the two of them in the picture. It had been taken during the summer. They were waving happily at Harry, though occasionally she would jab him in the ribs with a mischievous look in her eyes. The Harry in the photograph would just laugh. As Harry watched the two of them in the photograph, he almost let out a sigh. It was so obvious that he had started to like her then. Except he, of course, hadn't known that.

Finally he settled himself on Ginny's bed. He touched the soft green sheets absently, and thought to himself, _So this is where Ginny sleeps._ Then he blushed. This wasn't _really_ her bed. Slowly, he laid himself down on the bed. It fit him, but barely. It was…just right.

Lying there…he couldn't help but dream about being with her. He felt his face flush and pressed a hand over his pounding chest. If he were her boyfriend, then he could be with her as much as he wanted. Even…perhaps…kiss her. Then he violently shook his embarrassed head before he buried it under her soft pillow. How could he even think that when he was such a horrible kisser? That time with Cho…

He felt his heart sink. So even if he fit all the other categories for her Mr. Perfect, he was lacking in the most important one. This whole matchmaking was for the sake of her perfect kiss, wasn't it?

Kissing Ginny…that would be…

He groaned and rolled over, willing himself to sleep and banish all thoughts of the redhead.

_That was pointless, _he thought five hours later. He hadn't managed to even get a wink of sleep. His mind continued to betray him by thinking and thinking thoughts that only tormented him. He imagined all the possible things that he could do to make her fall for him. Perhaps if he made a love potion, he wondered…but that notion was beyond ridiculous. He wanted her real love, not something that was created and false. He would rather her not be with him at all.

But his blood ran cold at the idea of her being with someone else.

He turned over for the thousandth time and heaved another melancholy sigh. Being here…surrounded by Ginny, yet _not _by Ginny…it was pure torture. He wanted the real thing. A surge of emotion rushed into his heart.

_Then do something about it._

He was a Gryffindor, wasn't he? He bolted upright in the bed and tossed off the covers. He had to be brave. He couldn't keep this emotion trapped inside his chest. It didn't belong to him. It belonged to Ginny.

He glanced at his watch. Five A.M. He couldn't wait until the morning, because by then the other blokes might have managed to capture him. If that happened, he would never get close to her. So he carefully opened the door and peeked out, grateful for the silence and darkness that welcomed him. He was glad that no blokes would be in his way now. Surely they had grown too exhausted and gone to bed! But he couldn't be _too_ sure. Luckily, he was quite used to dark corridors unlike these other blokes.

He crept down the halls and stairs, once again wishing for his Invisibility cloak. Then, at least, he could travel without being worried about being seen. He had made it down to the fifth floor when he caught the sound of a creak to his left and instantly leapt behind the statue of Boris the Bewildered. He could hear murmuring and he held his breath, lest it gave his position away.

"…Slimy little…did he go?" a hissing came.

_Malfoy_, Harry thought sharply, still holding his breath.

A blue light appeared down the corridor and it revealed the blonde boy with Theodore Nott, both grumbling and in a terrible mood. Harry supposed, with some glee, that it was because they hadn't found him or the fact that they were working together when they'd rather be working alone.

"Hang on," Nott suddenly hissed as the two Slytherins halted near the statue. Harry began to shake from his lack of oxygen.

"What is it?" Malfoy jeered impatiently.

There was a beat. Then, "No, it's nothing."

Harry took a deep gasp of air once they disappeared behind a corner. That had been close. _Stupefy _had been on the tip of his tongue. He frowned as he left his hiding spot.

So. The pests were still looking for him.

He had to get to Ginny _now_. She was surely still in her room and he couldn't go up the stairs to the girl's dorm without it turning into a large slippery slide and setting the alarms off. The wheels in his brain turned. He had it. But that meant he had to go outside of Hogwarts.

After sneaking out of the castle (which took quite a considerable amount of time as he had to dodge several other boys, Mrs. Norris, and Filch), he crept toward the Gryffindor Tower. He glared up at the opposing building. If he could get past that horrible secret society, he could get past this weak obstacle. It was at least a quarter past six now, as the sun was beginning to peek from behind the rolling mountains. It was as if it was watching Harry, waiting to see what he would do.

"_Accio Firebolt!"_

Without a hitch, he watched as his favorite and beloved broom flew to him, trying not to think too much. If he over thought everything, then…

"Don't let me down," he said to his Firebolt, as he mounted his broom and lifted from the ground, but he half wondered if that was directed toward himself. He swallowed hard as he stopped near a window. There was a small protruding slab of stone at the windowsill, which he steadied his knees on, though he carefully clutched the roof of the window with his hands. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves before he carefully rapped against the window with his knuckles.

"Ginny," he whispered urgently, praying that it would be her that woke and none of her other sleeping mates. He didn't want to even consider what to do if that happened. _Rap, rap, rap. _"Ginny…!"

He could faintly hear some stirring and groaning from within the room. Encouraged by this response, he tapped even more eagerly. _Rapraprap!_

"Bloody owl!" a voice cried as the window burst open. Harry nearly stumbled backwards when he found himself face to face with Ginny, dressed in a simple white cotton T-shirt over a pair of pajama pants. Her brown eyes widened considerably. "H-Harry?"

The morning wind blew, pushing her red hair back. For a moment, he couldn't speak as it swirled around her face, which was bathed in the new sunlight. Right then, he felt he could die happy.

"Ginny…" he whispered.

"H-Harry…what are you doing here?" she asked breathlessly, rubbing her eyes to make sure she wasn't dreaming. "At…my window…at…" she glanced to the clock on her bedside, "six thirty in the morning…?"

"I had to see you," he replied honestly. He swallowed hard again. His throat always closed up whenever he wanted to say something important.

"What about?" she asked hesitantly.

"You see, I…I think I've found h-him." Could she hear his deafening heartbeat?

"Who?" She blinked in confusion.

"Your ideal match."

"Oh." Her eyes darted toward the ground.

"Yes, you see…it's…it's…" he closed his emerald eyes and summoned all the courage he had. "Me."

Her head snapped up, her honey eyes filled with shock. Her lower lip trembled. "What?"

"I know it sounds crazy – it bloody _is_ crazy! You're my best friend's sister! B-But it's all there! I love Quidditch, you love Quidditch, and we're both good at it. I've got courage or I wouldn't be here. Plus I've battled with Deatheaters and dragons, even _living_ mazes– I don't think another bloke in this school has done that. I help people –"

From below, he distinctly heard a cry like _We found him!_ followed along with more cries of his name and many phrases that sounded remarkably like those from the day before. He felt terror bubble inside him.

"H –"

"I'm not super smart, but I think I have a considerable amount of knowledge – I have talent, I mean, I'm the youngest Seeker in the past century and I speak Parseltongue – I stick out, though I don't really _want_ to – I mean, I don't think anyone else has had a Dark evil Lord after him since he was one or has a lightening bolt scar on his forehead to prove it." His sentences were coming out so fast she could barely catch them.

"Har – "

"I think I'm modest for someone who's so famous – I'm absolutely rubbish with girls as you can obviously see because you know me better than I know myself – your family loves me almost as much as I love them – I think I'm funny though you're much funnier – I'm tall enough for you. I've even got _black hair!_" Harry gasped for breath. She opened her mouth, but he panicked and more words spilled from his lips. "The only thing is – I can't kiss. And I know that's really important to you and you need your perfect kiss, but everything else fits and I love you so I–"

She grabbed the sides of his face and yanked him forward. The moment their lips touched, fireworks exploded in his head. His mind went completely blank and everything disappeared. He couldn't even hear the shouts below him. Her flowery scent invaded his senses. All there was…was Ginny. When they finally broke apart bit by bit, after what seemed like more than a few wonderful days, he stared at her dumbly, his lips still tingling.

"I don't…I don't think I've enjoyed being shut up more than right now."

She licked her lips with a mischievous glint in her eye as she glanced downward below him before she looked back into his emerald eyes. "You can tell those boys down there that I won't be requiring any more of your services. I've already had my perfect kiss and found my matchless match."

"Really?" he said, smiling madly as his right hand tangled itself in her hair and slowly brought her closer again. "So have I."

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Naru-chan: What do you think? Hee hee. Finally! They kiss, right? Whew, 8 chapters. I hope you liked it. I just loved that image in my head of him at her window and the mad mob below him. Thank you to all of you that reviewed and read! 

I'm thinking of writing a compainion piece or two with this story. Like in Ginny's POV. Or the summer where he falls for her. Or a sequel with the mad mob. Hmmm...decisions, decisions. Anyway, review and let me know what you think!


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